


The More Things Change

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-04-15
Updated: 1999-04-15
Packaged: 2018-11-11 01:53:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11138853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: When Ben is sent away from Chicago, Ray has to adjust to a new partner.





	The More Things Change

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
The More Things Change

(Standard Disclaimer) It's Friday, I'm tired, I've got plans, so let's just say that Ben and Ray don't belong to me, they'll get over this, nothing is permanent, and actually, the goat *is* kind of growing on me. 

I had the idea for this story after being told one too many times, "Well, if they were trying to replace Fraser, I wouldn't mind one little bit!" I'm not attacking anyone, whether on the fic lists or the discussion lists or even in the Alliance production offices (okay, maybe I'm attacking *them* just a little. They're professionals. They can take it.) 

This story is snarky even by my standards, so be warned. Rated G for general audiences. (Peering into my monitor doubtfully... *is* there a general audience out there?) 

# THE MORE THINGS CHANGE...

by Katrina Bowen 

"No! You're not putting that damn thing in the Riv! You have any idea how much it cost to get the upholstery fixed after the last time?" 

"But, Ray --" 

Ray glared up from his cellphone. "Don't you dare 'But, Ray' me. Just \-- just stand there. On the sidewalk. Far away from me. I've tryin' to have a private conversation here, you mind?" 

"Oh, excuse me, Ray. Not at all. I'll just wait out here." The car door closed, and Ray was alone in his sanctuary. He closed his eyes as he resumed his conversation. "Benny, what the hell are you doin' to me here?" 

Fraser's voice sounded thin with distance over the phone. "Well, unfortunately, Ray, this 'month's assignment' to Prince Edward Island has turned out to be somewhat more complicated than either I or the Inspector had anticipated. There's no telling when Diefenbaker and I will be back, and, well, I know how much you dislike being idle --" 

"Since when do I dislike being idle?" Ray demanded. He looked out the window and distrustfully eyed the figure standing just out of hearing range. "That's you, Fraser. *You're* the one who dislikes being idle." 

"Ah. Yes, that's right. Well, be that as it may, I thought you might appreciate a chance to get to know someone from a different culture in my absence." 

Ray tilted his head back against the seat. "Do you have any idea how bizarre that notion is, Fraser? You're afraid that I'll be lonely, so you find someone to follow me around like you do? What, you're some kind of dating service? A matchmaker? Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Yenta." 

"Now, Ray, that was simply uncalled for." 

"No, it wasn't. You don't just pick up a new best friend the minute the first gets out of the city limits. I mean, you couldn't be expected to know that, seeing as how you never had one before, but hell, Benny, there are *protocols* for this kind of thing. What the hell were you *thinking*?" 

Before Fraser could object further, Ray allowed his rant to blossom into its full, fearsome beauty. "And why the hell did you have to pick a Swiss guy for me to hang out with, anyway? Who in their right mind would hang around with a Swiss guy?" 

Fraser finally started to sound a little defensive. "I met Hans Bern at a mixer for employees of the various consulates in Chicago. He seemed very nice...." 

"NICE? Fraser, even I can't believe I'm saying this, but this guy is more annoying than you are. Geez, he's even more annoying than Turnbull. He's polite. He's handsome. He's boring me to tears, Fraser. Frannie really likes him, though. She made him lasagna and bought herself more leather underwear." 

"Oh, dear." 

"You got that right. So now instead of wandering around Chicago with a Mountie attached to my hip -- which, though uncommon, is not entirely unheard of -- you know what I've got? I've got a Swiss Guard. You know how a Swiss Guard dresses?" 

"I believe I'm familiar with the traditional uniform, but I'm sure Hans doesn't wear *that*... does he?" 

Ray snorted. "He wears a steel helmet and he carries a seven-foot long axe." 

Fraser was silent for a few seconds. "I believe the technical term for that would be a halberd. It's distinguished from an axe by virtue of the shape of the blade --" 

"Right. The blade. That long, sharp, pointy thing that did five hundred bucks' worth of damage to the Riv's upholstery. Of course, that's not as bad as what he wears when he's off-duty. You want to know what he wears when he's off-duty, Fraser?" Ray asked maliciously. 

"Probably not...." Ray could almost hear Fraser rubbing a thumb along his eyebrow. Probably the left one. **Good. Let the bastard feel good and guilty.** 

"Lederhosen." 

"Lederhosen? Oh, now, Ray, you must be making that up. Surely Hans wouldn't wear lederhosen in the middle of... Ray? Oh, Ray, I'm so sorry." 

Nodding, Ray pinched the bridge of his nose. "And then there's the goat." 

"The goat." 

"Yep." Ray nodded mournfully, even though he knew Fraser couldn't see him. "He's got a pet goat. Did you know that?" 

"Ray, believe me, if I had known about a goat, I would have 

mentioned it." 

"Yeah. Well. He's got a pet goat. A pet goat named Zwingli. Said he had to bring it with him to Chicago, he didn't feel right leaving it back in the Alps, not after it saved his life and all." 

Silence. "The goat... saved his life." 

"Pulled him out of an avalanche. Now Zwingli is blind in one eye." 

"Ray, are you *sure* you're not making this up?" 

"Damn it, Fraser, am I the kind of person who'd be able to think up a pet goat named Zwingli? And what the hell kind of name is Zwingli, anway?" 

Fraser instantly shifted into lecture mode. "Oh, Huldreich Zwingli was a 16th century Swiss religious figure --" 

"And I'm definitely not the kind of person who would care about *that*, am I?" 

"No, Ray." 

"No, that's right, I'm not. You know where Hans, his goat and I are going now?" Ray checked his watch. 

"No, Ray." 

"We're going to pick up his new superior officer's drycleaning. Here's the good part. Her name is Wilhelmina Tell. She doesn't like Hans. Any of this sounding familiar?" 

Fraser sighed. "Ray, I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am about all this." 

"Start now. That way when you finally get back, you'll have a head start." 

"Yes, Ray." 

Breaking the connection, Ray shoved his phone into his pocket. Taking that as his cue, Hans walked briskly to the Riv; Zwingli followed him, his cloven hooves clicking merrily on the sidewalk. 

"All ready, Ray?" Hans asked cheerfully. He hefted his halberd into the air. "Shall we just tie this to the roof of your automobile again?" 

Ray sighed wearily. "Sure, why not? What's a paint job between friends?" As Hans set about fastening his weapon to the top of the Riv, Ray slumped down in his seat. Zwingli hopped up next to him and rested his muzzle sympathetically on Ray's arm. Without looking, Ray took a doughnut out of the box on the seat and gave it to the goat. As Zwingli started delicately nibbling away at the treat, Ray brushed the crumbs from his hand and began calculating the hours until Fraser's return. 

Katrina Bowen~~~~~kbowen@willowtree.com~~~~~buffy@jumpgate.net~~~~~ 


End file.
